Spike cursed the daylight. By the time he could leave the inn, Buffy was long gone. It shouldn’t bother him so much, but it did. Couldn’t that bitch see it would be easier to do this going home thing with the two of them, instead of each by themselves? Spike put on his leather coat, not caring about the looks it would get him in the street. The rest of the clothes from his own time he took with him in the package he’d been carrying them around in. Spike had been planning on leaving the city tonight, but now he wasn’t sure what to do. What if the Slayer was still in Rome? Should he stay a little longer now, just in case? “Sod it,” he thought. “I’ll leave when I want to.” He hated her for messing up his plans. And what did she blame him for anyway? She had been the one who’d started their little wake-up lust fest! Spike felt the rage venture near boiling point. He longed to kill something.

As if there was a god, or devil, listening, he suddenly heard a sound. It was like a strangled cry and it penetrated many walls to reach his ears. Surely no human on the street could’ve heard it. Spike turned towards the direction the sound had came from, and as another cry fought it’s way through layers of stone, he followed the sound until he stood in front of a low, long church.

“I know this,” he said, deep in thought for a moment as he lay his hand upon the old bricks of the church. This church… he’d been here before. With Dru. “The San Clemente.”

It had been a summer night of the kind where the air never gets the chance to cool down. Hot and hungry, they had hunted the streets of Rome, forgetting all time, till dawn sneaked up on them. There was no time to go back to their lair in the mansion outside the city, so they had sought refuge from the the sun in the first place they’d come upon: a small church. Very unlikely place for vampires, he knew, but it wasn’t like they had much choice at that moment. Forcing the door open hadn’t been a problem, and they had jumped over the threshold right when the first rays of sunlight came cracking through the clouds. He’d almost burned the hand he used to close the door behind them.

Once inside, they had gone looking for a crypt or cellar or something similar that would shelter them from the light coming from the leaded windows that speckled the floor in bright red, yellow and blue, portraying holy scenes and figures. They had been delighted, at first, when they found not a crypt but instead a stone staircase leading to a huge open space beneath the church. They had gone down in it and wandered around in the room with the huge ceilings, where the remains of old murals covered the walls. This underground place had seemed to be a church of sorts as well, and a very old one at that. Not long after their discovery of the underground church they had found a second staircase, this one narrow and slightly wet, that lead further down. They followed it and found it led to a myriad of small alleys and empty rooms. Some of the passages were so narrow he and Dru could hardly fit through them, and Spike hadn’t felt much like exploring. But his dark princess had been very excited, or at least for a little while. She claimed there were voices, and they were all singing to her, while she swayed beautifully to silent melodies.

Thus far it had all been fun, but then things went soar. Spike started to hear voices too, and realized in a moment that these were human voices coming from the top level of the church. It sounded like there was a ceremony going on. Just then Drusilla shrieked and clutched Spike’s arm. “They are mad at us, my Spike. They are so angry.” He had turned to look at her and all he saw in her eyes was a fear of things he couldn’t see or hear, but he could feel the atmosphere change. Suddenly the labyrinth beneath the church wasn’t entertaining anymore. It had become a place of doom. Although he had no idea how, he just knew unspeakable horror had taken place there. “They blame us, Spike.” Dru had whispered. Usually not one to get scared easily, the words had sent chills down his spine. Spike had had no idea what to do. “Let’s just get out of here,” he’d said, and he had pulled her with him, through more tunnels and passageways until they suddenly came upon a room they hadn’t been yet. This room wasn’t empty. In it where two stone benches facing each other, with in between them a small altar with a picture carved in the stone, depicting the Mithrean story of the killing of the bull.

“This is not the right way,” he’d said, a little disoriented. It didn’t help that his love became more panicked by the second. They had started running, and finally after what seemed forever, they had found back the staircase to the second level of the church. There they had stayed until darkness brought its gracious freedom.

They had left Rome the next day.

And now he was standing in front of the place again, the little church with the mysterious labyrinth beneath it. It looked a little different. Maybe restorations had taken place before he saw the thing at the dawning of the twentieth century, but this was definitely the same upper-level church he and Dru had hidden from daylight in. That meant the rest had to be under it, too; the older parts, the frescoes and the altar. Another cry piercing the walls told him that something was going on in this church, or more likely, beneath it. “Good,” he thought, waves of anger at the Slayer’s stupidity still coursing through him. “Can’t wait to kill something.”

Spike slipped inside the building but when he went to the back of the church, the staircase wasn’t there. Apparently the lower levels hadn’t been discovered by the public at large yet. Someone must’ve known they were there though, because the sudden sound of low chanting voices led him to a crypt at the side of the church, from where a small opening led to the second level. From there it was easy to find the stairs to the labyrinth. He followed the chants through a few passages until he came upon the room with the stone altar. “As I thought,” Spike said under his breath.

A few scattered candles lit the small room. Gathered around the altar stood four vampires in ragged long black robes. They didn’t seem very old. Their attire made them look like monks, and it didn’t help that they were holding hands and humming Latin. As Spike approached silently, he saw a small body lying aside from the altar. Its arms and legs were covered in blood. A child, still breathing but barely so as it lay completely still. So that’s where the screams he had heard came from. Another kid, a little girl, was tied up, a gag preventing her sobs from rising above the chants.

Spike felt disgusted. He had never had a liking for torture like his sire, Angelus had. His philosophy was more like if you want to kill something, kill it, have fun, but don’t go about messing with your meal. Especially not if that meal happened to be some little kid. Also, Spike hated rituals and this definitely had the looks of one. Enough reasons for giving these vampires a good dusting, he thought. He stepped forward out of the shadows of the hallway.

The vampires broke off their chants immediately. “An intruder,” one of them growled, turning to Spike, who dropped his bundle of clothing and immediately launched himself at the monk. The other three closed in on the intruder. “Great thinking on all accounts,” Spike thought, “except for the not bringing a stake!” He kicked two of the vampires off, and the fight ensued. The vampires turned out to be pretty young. They couldn’t be more than a century, Spike thought as he fought them. Still they put up a pretty good fight. After a few rounds of kicks and punches, Spike managed to grab a candle and threw it at one of the vamps, whose robe caught fire immediately. Screaming, he burned down to a small pile of dust.

The little girl in the corner meanwhile had stopped crying. She was just staring at the fighting vampires now, eyes widened in shock. Spike picked up a second candle and managed to set another vamp aflame. That was enough to scare of the remaining two, apparently, because they made with the running. Spike didn’t chase them. He’d had his fun, so he turned his attention to the children now. The girl started sobbing again as he untied her and removed the gag from her mouth. “Shh, ‘s alright now,” Spike said, uncomfortable. He patted her head lightly before he went over to the little boy on the ground. The kid was younger than the girl, by at least five years or so. They seemed like siblings. Spike carefully lifted the boy up. “Light as a feather,” he muttered. The scent of blood was intoxicating, and his mouth watered at the memory of its taste. Human blood, so close now. It took all of Spike’s strength to keep the demon from coming forth. No need to scare the little things any further, he thought. He couldn’t eat them anyway. For a second another thought crossed his mind. Would he if he could? Eat them? But he shrugged this new thought off. Of course he would if he could. He was a vampire, for god’s sake.

“Follow me,” Spike told the girl curtly, not sure if she’d understand anything he said. The boy’s breath came raggedly and he seemed unable to walk. Spike carried him through the hallways back to the stairs, with the girl on his heels. Moments later they stood outside, the cool night air surrounding them.

“Here,” Spike told the girl who appeared to come to her senses a bit, although her eyes still spoke the language of fear and terror. She’d no doubt witnessed some of the horrors the spirits below the church had told Drusilla about when they had been there. “Take him with you,” Spike said, as he put the little boy into the girl’s arms. “You can carry him, right? Go home.”

The girl stared at him blankly for just a moment, and then without speaking a single word, she turned around and started to walk away as fast as her heavy load let her. Spike’s gaze followed her until she rounded the corner near the Coliseum. The snorting of a horse wrenched him from his thoughts and he spun around.

A tall black horse stood behind him. On it was a rider clad in the same old black monk robes he’d seen on the vampires beneath the church. It was another vampire, but this one was much older than the ones Spike had dusted just moments ago. The horse was rather young, and could’ve been a beauty, Spike thought, if the owner had taken care of it at all. Now it just looked shabby. Next to the rider stood the vampire who had escaped him earlier beneath the church. ‘Sneak,’ Spike thought.

“Well, well, we have a hero,” the rider said, his voice oozing cynicism. He spoke a strange mix of old French and Italian, but to Spike, this was a lot easier to understand than the sole Italian tongue he’d been hearing around him.

“Hardly,” Spike replied in the French he knew. “I just felt like killing something, mate.”

“Is that so?” The man dismounted his horse and took it by the reins. “If that’s true, vampire, then how come you killed my men, instead of the children?”

“Maybe we just happen to have a different taste,” Spike said. He felt exhilarated. He knew there was going to be a fight, he could feel it, and he couldn’t wait to take this ponce on. Sure, the vampire was older than him, by three hundred years even, maybe, but Spike knew he could take him. This was just like having four young vampires rolled into one person, and he could take four youngsters.

The horse rider seemed to taste the hostile atmosphere too. He spoke quickly. “You know, you’re dumb, young one.”

“Yeah, how so?” Spike said, feeling delicious anger rise again.

“Have you never heard of Xavier the Great? Have you not heard no one dares tread on his territory unless they seek to join him in the serving of Satan? Tell me, young one, are you willing to serve the Lord of the underworld?”

Spike rolled his eyes. Great, more rituals and holy-speak. These vampires of the old days really weren’t all they were cracked up to be. They needed to get a life for one thing. “Listen mate, I’m not serving anyone.”

“Well, it’s not like we’d let you even if you wished to,” the dark rider said. “Not just now. You killed my men. What’s more, you disrupted one of our sacrifices. You will pay. And maybe, when you’ve paid enough, it will mean heaven to you to join our force.”

“Just drop the cryptic bit, alright,” Spike said, shrugging. He rushed forward and tried to strike the guy, but he warded off the blow. The horse rider then lifted his arm and cried some kind of a battle-call. Suddenly from all directions other vampires came running at them. Some old, some young, and all in all way too many for Spike’s liking. He turned to run but saw they had surrounded him. There was no way out. The vampires stood waiting for a moment, while Spike searched the crowd desperately for an escape. Then came their leader’s signal. “Get him!” he ordered, and the vampires attacked him from all sides. Spike fought like a madman and managed to keep it up for a few minutes, throwing off vamps here and there. But there were just too many. Within moments, his world went black.

* Pine trees and marble pieces of ancient Roman walls and columns littered the side of the road. The white stone of some of the rubble seemed to shine eerily in the pale light of the full moon. After running for what felt like eternity, Buffy saw the dark form of the church of St. Sebastian loom up. She slowed her pace and approached the basilica cautiously. It seemed there was no one around. Fear gripped Buffy’s throat and she swallowed hard. What if this was the wrong place? What if Spike was somewhere else, and she was too late…?

The snorting and stamp footing of a horse broke the silence. Buffy ducked into the shadows of the church’s walls and waited. No one came. At length she stepped out of her hiding place again, and stealthily circled around the church. Behind it she found the horse, a black stallion, its reins tied to a stone pillar. There had to be someone here. Maybe she was in the right place after all. But where were they?

Buffy jumped as voices approached from the road. She melted into the shadows of the church again, and kept dead quiet. As the voices came closer, her senses told her they belonged to vampires. Two males and a female vampire, all dressed in gross-looking black robes, passed her by a mere three feet or so. Buffy contemplated jumping out of her hiding place and dusting them, but decided to wait until she knew what they were doing here. They might lead her to Spike.

The three were almost past her when one of the male vampires stopped. “Someone’s here,” he said to the others. Buffy held her breath and tried to shrink even further into her corner.

“Nonsense,” the female replied. “How can someone be here? The people don’t know about the catacombs. They don’t know anything.”

“Yeah, besides,” the third vampire added, “Xavier is waiting. They didn’t call us all together for nothing. He will be mad if he’s kept waiting.”

The first vampire still looked around, his eyes searching. One moment Buffy was sure he saw her, for he was looking right at her, but then the vamp nodded slowly. “You’re right,” he said. “Let us go on.”

They moved further away from the church and Buffy took a deep breath of relief. Catacombs. It definitely matched the description. A place of death, skulls and bones. Yes, definitely matching qualities there, Buffy thought. She was thankful the spell Getha had done to make Buffy understand her was apparently still working. Without that spell she could’ve never understood what the vampires had said.

Buffy followed the trio around the church walls and saw them disappear through some secret entrance. After waiting a while she walked up there to find a small stone trapdoor partly covered with sand. She checked that she had her stake, tied the bundle of her twentieth century clothes around her middle and climbed down the stairs. They went at least forty feet into the earth and ended in a passage just wide enough to let a person through. All was silent down here, and pitch dark. Should’ve brought a candle, Buffy thought. High above her a tiny bit of moonlight shone through the trapdoor opening, lighting some of the symbols and inscriptions on the walls. Buffy waited a short moment to let her eyes get used to the darkness and then continued her way, relying more on touch than by sight. The walls were uneven and the stone felt a little damp. Not far from the stairs leading to the outside, Buffy found another stone staircase. “Oh well, I guess,” Buffy sighed. The place was giving her the creeps and she didn’t like much the idea of venturing even further down into this place of death. “What I have to go through to save him,” she muttered. “He’d better appreciate it.”

* Spike woke up with a bunch of very sore limbs. He was lying face-forward on the ground of some dark and smelly place, and, he noted when he tried to move, he was bound in iron chains all over. The last thing he remembered was fighting all those vamps in front of the San Clemente, and now he was captured, and he had no idea where he was. He growled in frustration.

“It sounds like our guest is awake,” he heard the singsong voice of the older vampire, Xavier, say. A minion turned Spike around so he lay facing them. About fifty vampires were gathered around them, huddled together in the tiny space of a small, dark room, with Xavier and two close helpers standing in the middle, next to Spike. The vampires were quiet but Spike could hear soft cries around them.

“We thought we’d wait until you woke up,” Xavier told him. “This wouldn’t be nearly as much fun otherwise.”

“What’s the freak show all about, you idiot?” Spike spat at him.

“Oh, this. This is both your goodbye party and your welcome. The choice is up to you.”

“I told you I won’t be a part of your bloody Satan gang,” Spike growled. Fucking Middle Agers and their Middle Age ways, he thought. If he ever made it home he would most definitely never come back here.

“I didn’t say you got to choose now.” Xavier said menacingly. “No, first we are going to wall you up.”

“WHAT?”

“We will bury you behind one of these walls,” Xavier gestured around them, “and you will starve, until you either die, which would take a long time, mind you, or manage to break out by sheer desperation of the will. By then, you will be ready to join our, ‘gang’, as you put it. Standard procedure for newcomers.”

A murmur rose from the crowd. Apparently all the vampires gathered here had been through this torture. Spike got the awful feeling he knew where those distant cries were coming from now.

“Now, off you go,” Xavier said. “Marco and Sergio will bring you to your resting place. Unfortunately the passages are too small for all of us, so we must say goodbye now.”

“Glad to,” Spike said, as he tried once more to wrestle out of the chains. They didn’t give way at all. It felt horrible to be so fucking helpless, he thought. The two vampires next to Xavier came forth and picked Spike up, one lifting his shoulders, the other his feet. They carried him out of the room, while cheers and applause from the crowd in the room haunted them down the corridor. Spike tried hard to wriggle himself out of their grip, but to no avail. He let out a loud scream of frustration and horror at his apparent fate.

* Buffy was almost at the bottom of the second staircase when she heard a scream pierce the walls. “Spike,” she said worriedly. It was even darker down here and Buffy had a hard time finding her way through the small passages, but her instinct led her through a few alleys in the direction the sound had come from, until she stopped again, unsure where to go now. The place was a labyrinth and she had to make sure she would still be able to find the exit.

Spike’s carriers in the meantime had arrived at the place they meant to leave him. They were standing next to one of the many openings in the wall, just big enough for a person, with a slate of stone standing on the ground next to it. Contrary to many of the other openings, this one did not have old Christian bones in it. The men had to put Spike down for a moment in order to move the slate aside a little, but this corridor was so small that he couldn’t lie down in it. The vampires thus put Spike on his feet, with one of them guarding Spike while the other picked up the slate of stone.

Big mistake, Spike thought as he rammed his head hard against the guard’s head. The vampire slumped to the ground and the other yelped in surprise.

A second scream, this time from someone else, pointed Buffy in the right direction again. Just two more corridors, one more corner and…

There Spike was, despite the chains that bound him doing an admirable job of dodging the blows of a vampire in a black robe. Another vamp lay knocked out at their feet. Wow, Buffy thought. “He really can fight. Even with chains on.” But there was no time now to ponder Spike’s fighting ability. The black-clad vampire got the better of Spike and threw him on the floor. Spike lay floundering, unable to get up because of the chains. He could clearly use some help. Buffy stepped out of the darkness and into the scene. The element of surprise helped her a lot as, with just two kicks, she took Spike’s attacker out. Consequently, she staked both of the monk-like vampires.

“What’s happening?” Spike asked. He was lying with his back towards the action and trashed his legs some more in an attempt to get free.

“Lie still.” Buffy told him, as she knelt by his side and started to undo the chains.

“Buffy? How did you know? Why did you…?”

“Why did I come?” Buffy asked, roughly freeing his hands and legs. She put out her hand and helped him up, and as he stood facing her, he said softly, “Yeah.”

Buffy avoided the gaze of his blue eyes, questioning her in wonder and happiness. “I don’t know,” she said off-handedly. “I heard things were wrong, and I didn’t think I could just leave you to get, well, buried.”

Spike was still staring at her. He had never thought she’d find out about his predicament, but he had even less expected her to come and get him out of it if she did find out. And here she was, and she’d done both.

“Thanks,” he said earnestly, while trying to restrain the emotion in his voice. He felt like lifting her chin, making her eyes meet his, and kissing her until the world ended, but he thought she probably wouldn't be charmed, so he didn’t. And as for worlds ending…

“We need to get out of here.” Spike said urgently.

“Huh?” Buffy had thought for a moment that he was going to kiss her. For some reason, she didn’t think she’d mind it this time around. She had never expected herself to be so glad at the well-being of Spike, but she was. The relief of finding him alive and well was overwhelming. Now his words snapped her back into the reality of danger and their catacomby surroundings.

“There are more of them.”

“More vampires? We can take them.”

“No, we can’t,” Spike said, pushing her back through the alley. “There are lots more. Maybe fifty, and they’re gonna notice pretty soon that their mates here didn’t come back.”

“Oh. Yes, good idea then, let’s make with the running,” Buffy said and took off as quickly as possible in the dark, back into the direction she’d come from. Spike followed her rapidly.

Turn here, side passage there, Buffy thought while trying to make her way back. Strange, she thought they should have gotten to the stairs by now. She stopped abruptly, causing Spike to bump into her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m afraid we’re kinda—“

“Don’t tell me we’re lost.”

“Yes. Or well, maybe.”

Spike sighed, suppressing his aggravation. They didn’t have time to be lost. “Let’s try and figure this out, luv.”

Since when did I become ‘love’, Buffy thought, but she didn’t mention it. “Yes, alright. Umm, how?”

“What did you notice when you came here? How did you find me?”

“I don’t know. I just heard the screaming, and—“

Buffy’s words where smothered as Spike suddenly placed a hand over her mouth. “Hrmph,” she said indignantly under his hand, but one look at his face made her shut up. He was listening intensely, all concentration. Then suddenly she heard it too. Someone was giving out orders in the far distance. The sound seemed to multiply as it echoed through the tufa stone tunnels.

Spike removed his hand and motioned her to follow him in the other direction. They set off again, without any idea where they were going now, except away from the sound behind them. Unexpectedly, their course ran to a stop as they nearly bumped into one of the vampires of the black robe tribe. Buffy dusted him swiftly but not before the vampire had been able to utter a scream of fear.

“Fuck,” Buffy muttered as running footsteps drew near. “They know where we are now.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, “and they know the way in this bloody cemetery. Which is more than we know.”

“Right,” Buffy said, “Remind me to—“

She was interrupted by another vampire approaching from the front. He too was alone, and clearly not aware of the hunt going on in the underground city. Maybe he was late for the party, Spike thought. Spike caught the fellow and Buffy pointed her stake at the frightened vampire’s chest, ready to drive the thing through his heart. But just as she was about to do so, Spike stopped her. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. Turning to the Satan worshipper, he said, “Where’s the exit? Tell us and you’ll live.”

The vampire didn’t think twice. “Straight ahead, second to the left, then third to the right.” Spike made a mental note of the directions and gestured to Buffy’s stake. “Alright, you can stake him now.”

Brushing the dust of his jacket, Spike led the way out of the catacomb’s labyrinth. Thankfully the vampire had spoken the truth, and they made it to the stairs rather quickly. In the meantime, the footsteps and war cries behind them had grown louder. Buffy and Spike wasted no time and flew up the stairs. As they reached the first underground level their pursuers had reached the bottom of the first staircase. “Faster!” Buffy yelled at Spike as they ran down the corridor and jumped on the steps of the second staircase. They could feel the draught from outside on their faces now.

Finally, and completely out of breath, they reached the top of the stairs and set foot on the grass behind St. Sebastian’s church. The fresh air was wonderful but they had no time to enjoy it. Buffy slammed the trapdoor shut, but this wouldn’t stop their enemies.

“We have to run,” Buffy said. “It’s our only chance.”

Spike agreed with her, but then his eye fell on Xavier’s black stallion, which was still tied to the stone pillar behind the basilica. “We’re taking the horse,” he said and ran over to the animal, quickly untying the reins.

Buffy followed him, wondering if this was a good idea. That horse was pretty big. Also, it didn’t appear to have a saddle. “Do you know how to ride a horse?” she asked, hesitantly. Just then the trapdoor behind them flew open.

“There they are,” she heard one of the vamps cry as they poured into the field.

“Buffy, get on.” Spike was already on the horse. Buffy didn’t doubt the horse plan anymore. She grabbed Spike’s hand and he swung her on the back of the animal, behind him. “Hold on,” he said, as they stormed off.

Spike directed the horse to the road next to the Church and took the direction that led them away from Rome. Some of Xavier’s gang set in the chase but they had to give up soon enough, unable to keep up with the speed of the stallion.

Buffy had wrapped her arms around Spike’s middle and held on for dear life at first, but as the horse had settled into a more even trot after a while, she relaxed a bit. She leant her head against Spike’s back and sighed, tired as hell, but content with the feeling of having him close, and the knowledge that he was still there with her.

“Slayer?” Spike at last broke the mix of silence and clattering hoofs on the road. “Hm?”

“Whaddaya say we stick together for a while now?”

“I say yes.” Buffy smiled.

Silence settled in again. The steady rhythm of the horse’s movement made Buffy sleepy. They rode, down the road, through fields and hills covered with small pine forests, until the sky began to lighten in the east. By then they were both nearly exhausted. They stopped at a small empty shed in a hillside field where once goats had grazed. A brook ran down the hill and kneeling next to it, they drank its water greedily. Spike thirsted for a bit of blood but was too tired to even make a point of it. After their horse had had a bit of water too, they tied its reins to a hook in one of the shed’s walls, and ventured inside the small wooden building. There they collapsed on the ground, in each other’s arms, without caring about old hurt and hatred. They slept instantly.